It All Fell Apart
by angel white
Summary: Post Epilogue Ichijouji. Ken recieves some disturbing news. Will it alter the life he's grown used to?
1. Holding on to Illusion

**It All Fell Apar**t

_Chapter 1/?_

_Holding on to Illusion_

: -: -: -: -: -:

- I refuse to announce what couplings are going to be in a fic beforehand. Or IF there will be any at all. Ruins the quality of the fic if you are expecting it. This fic-verse is actually semi canon, taking place sometime after the so-called epilogue. In fact, there's not much of a fic. It wasn't planned at all. It's just something I started writing around 11 PM and actually intended to finish in the same night. …oh I just hate author's notes…  
  


- Note my incompetence when it comes to picking titles.   
  


- I don't own Digimon. If I did, my fic-verses would be real, the epilogue would never have happened, half-breed digi-destined would exist, Archnemon would be alive and Ken's mother, and Mimato and Kenkeru would be canon and have more proof than just being fan favorites ^.^ But, that's only IF I owned digimon. So, consider yourselves lucky.

Edited a bit: Oh, and the song is Crazy Cold by Red West. Props to karei.

: -: -: -: -: -:

_My head's confusion_

_Is infused by the love you give_

_Holding on to illusion_

_Simple love that tries to mend_

Ichijouji Ken sat outside on the steps to his apartment, his clear amethyst eyes reflecting the sky and the occasional clouds that moved by lost in the chorus of his mind. His indigo hair settled around his head, a dark cloud of despair. For the first time after being married to Miyako, he was feeling incompleteness inside of him. It was slightly chilly outside, even for summer, so he stuck his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

There was something missing…something that he had overlooked. Twenty-five years ago, he would have said this was his dream coming true. But what dream was this? It didn't seem realistic anymore.

"Ken?" He heard his wife's voice behind him, and suddenly the lavender-haired vision was standing next to him, looking down. "Didn't you hear me calling you?"

"No." The indigo-haired man replied after a moment.

"Oh." Miyako turned and went back inside.

Ken sighed. This was what his life amounted to lately. Answering to his wife. How could she possibly be happy with the situation? She said she loved him, and that was perfectly all right, but something was missing. It couldn't be love, not from his part. Maybe he did take her into his bed but it was she who pushed for everything.

It was Miyako's dream.

Miyako's life.

Maybe he had felt that in order to make himself feel happy, he would have to submit to her. Do what she wanted. Let her live her life. But even watching his children play happily, it felt wrong.

And it was only his younger children who seemed happy with the situation. His oldest daughter would often go on long walks by herself and slip in afterwards. Something he never thought to question.

_"Ken," She said, smiling, whispering into his ears seductively. He had finally decided to take her out to dinner as every person had just pointed out to him her obvious crush. "Ken, I'm so happy we're here."_

_ He could only smile and nod, not knowing what to say._

_ "What do you think this is, Ken? Destiny?"_

And again he could only nod. What was destiny? Maybe if he made Miyako happy, he could figure it out for himself. They had destiny once. They were the chosen children, once. But what happened then couldn't control the rest of their lives.

And suddenly his thoughts traveled to his wedding day. Out of all the former digi-destined, he and Miyako had been the first. That was when everyone else was still sorting out his or her problems. He remembered, after watching Miyako and her family, how he wished his family were more like that, instead of obsessing over whichever child showed the most talent. And he realized he didn't love his parents at all.

His father had had a heart attack and suddenly the vivid memory of what had happened came back to him, the words echoing in his ears, his heart racing, remembering, as he was getting ready to walk out of the room. He had been in his mid twenties at the time, old enough to accept, nearly a college graduate. And of course, Miyako. There wasn't a day when Miyako didn't call him or email him and let him know that she existed. Her concern boggled Ken. Even at his utmost low moment he couldn't turn to her, knowing exactly how she would react.

_"Ken…wait." His father spoke, his voice not the way it used to be, scratchy, and hollow so that it pained Ken to hear him speak and he turned around. _

_"Son…we're not your parents."_

_Ken blinked. It took his a full two minutes to understand the comment. "What do you mean, 'you're not my parents'?" He _

_rasped, shocked by his own voice, the venom etched there._

_"We're not your parents." Mr. Ichijouji was lying on the bed, his body still, the only other sounds being his breathing and the steady beeping of the heart monitor. Ken turned around to face his mother, who was as pale as the bed sheets on his father's hospital bed. _

_"Tell me that he is delusional, mother." _

_Mrs. Ichijouji was in next to no state of answering him, stepping back out of surprise as soon as her husband had uttered the words, putting her hands to her face and hiding her eyes from him. "You're my little boy…"_

_ He looked back at his father. "Dad…?"_

_ "I don't want to die without you knowing the truth. I love you and knowing that you are to be married soon – I don't want you to live a lie." He stopped speaking a moment, taking a breath to help him along. "We are not your parents."_

_ "No!" Mrs. Ichijouji shrieked, but Ken ignored her, moving closer to his father's bed_

_Ken stared at him, disgust twisting his features. 'I should have known.' _

_ "Was Sam?"_

_ "Your mother wasn't capable of having children. Sam was our nephew. We adopted him from since before his birth. We loved him."_

_ "More than you loved me…" His words trailed off. "How did I become your son?"_

_ His mother cried harder, sinking to the floor. "You were always my little boy…"_

_ "Tell me," He said, his words harsher, moving closer to the bed, a few feet away from his father's face. "How did I become your son? Whose child am I?"_

_ "You're our child…"_

_ Suddenly a doctor burst through the doors, glaring at them furiously. "This man has just had a heart attack. May I advise the two of you to leave?"_

_ "No." Ken said, his breathing fast. "Not until I get the truth."_

_ "Then I'll get security to escort you out." The doctor said angrily, staring at him. Ken's eyes never left the man he called 'father', stepping closer. _

_ "Why now? Why are you telling me now? Are you afraid that you'll die and you want your soul to be freed? Why couldn't you tell me before? Afraid I wouldn't love you?"_

_ "Ken!" His mother squeaked. "It wasn't like that!"_

_ He turned around, cold fury kindling in his amethyst eyes. "So it's true."_

_ "Yes…It's…it's true, Ken." Wailing, his mother fled the room. _

_ "Sir. I must advise you to leave." The Doctor said again._

_ Ken cast one look back at his father, but, finding himself unable, fled the room himself before the pale man could see his tears, ignoring his terrified cry, "Ken!" before the beeping became distorted and all that Ken could hear in his ears was that last wailing as he sped down the corridor, wanting to get away._

_ To get away…_

After his father died, he went directly to Miyako, who swore she'd never let anything like that happen to him again.

Now as he watched her be a loving mother he also saw her faults. She was short tempered with some of them. In trying to make herself perfect, she had ultimately corrupted her own dream. Miyako Inoue was a working girl. Miyako Ichijouji was no mother. In fact, when he had told her that she should get a job, she positively baulked at the idea. "I can handle this just fine!" She snapped, and that had been the end of it.

Ken watched his children play, their happy laughter making his feel even more incomplete_. 'This isn't real, anymore. I can't do this…'_ He touched a hand to his face and found that tears had been slipping down again. He didn't love Miyako. He didn't love his children, and quite frankly at the moment he didn't love himself.

He stood up.

"Where are you going?" Miyako demanded, hands on her hips, rushing back outside.

"Just to take a walk, Miya." He replied. It felt so strange…

His parents tried so hard, and he tried so hard to love them back, but he just couldn't. He had found himself often wondering how he could even be created from them, but knowing that he was, accepted it lightly. He didn't know why the truth had affected him this much. Why it made him run away just as his father took his last breath. Maybe he was better off not knowing. Not that his mother would tell him anyway.

The day slipped away into the bowels of the evening. What had once been a clear day was now an incredibly misty night. He wondered if the children were still outside playing. "What can Miyako be thinking about?" he allowed himself to speak. The streets were empty. The night's chill intermingled with summer's dampness as he walked. Shadows danced on the streets with the lights, on silent streets darkness prevailed. His hands once again sought his pockets. _'No one would be out this late, anyway,'_ he thought, looking at the vast number of apartment buildings that surrounded the area. _'No one would be here, anyway.'_

He stumbled into the park, where there was nothing but the swings moving on their own. Feeling a chill in the air he left, feeling as if he had stumbled upon a spot where ghosts of the past once rested. For a moment he felt compelled to stay, closing his eyes, trying to figure out if there was some memory hidden there that he needed to rehash. Hesitant, he kept walking on, past the swings, past the park, away from the greenery and the memories.

_"For the last time mother, please, tell me!" His words were cold. "I wouldn't care this much if you had just been upfront with me to begin with." _

_Mrs. Ichijouji couldn't even look at him. "My husband's gone. I've lost him and my baby Sam…I've lost them all."_

_"Young man, she is in no state to answer your questions." _

_ "I have to know!"_

_ "Sir, if you cannot contain yourself we will be forced to throw you out."_

_ He pulled himself free of the doctor's grip. "Let go of me. Give me one more try."_

_ "Mrs. Ichijouji has been under an amount of stress lately. It was you who insisted we take her."_

_"I just want the truth, and then you can keep her." Ken snapped. _

_ "Mr. Ichijouji-"_

_ "That is not my name!" Ken snapped. "You ask her that! Ask her who my father is!"_

_ "Ken?" Her voice wavered. "I'll tell you."_

"What am I going to do?" He thought aloud. The answer was obvious. Leave Miyako, and his perfect life and family, but why would he do it? He didn't have parents. He didn't have a life, and hell, he didn't even remember what his lifelong dream was, so what was the point?

But if he didn't act now, he would be trapped in a dream that had turned to a nightmare. For good. Eternity with Miyako seemed less pleasing the more he thought about it. 

_ "Am I yours, Ken?"_

_ "No. I'm yours."_

_ "Heart and mind?"_

_ "Body and soul." And they kissed. Miyako must have felt so warm, so safe, but he felt so lost, even more estranged than he had ever had been. And on that same night, Ayame was conceived._

What would Osamu have done with his life had he lived that day? For that matter, what were the dreams of those whose lives were taken from them abruptly? These thoughts infuriated Ken. _'Living someone else's dream, and yet never knowing what I wanted in the first place.' _He kept walking, furious with himself. What was it that had woken him up during these twenty-five years of silent suffering? He felt strangely vulnerable, to the world and everything in it. _'Damn you…'_

He was damning himself, and he didn't know why…what he really wanted to do was go to his old place of salvation. But how would he get there? Then he remembered. The old way: the digital gate. There were lots of them now, thanks to Hikari and her 'everything must live in harmony' campaigns. He actually found it all rather dumb…this peace, it wouldn't last, no matter how much Taichi tried. There's no way you could wipe away that darkness forever.

Especially if it was inside of you.

He removed his old digivice from his pocket and wondered why he even had it with him. Examining it, he held it out in 

front of him. "Digital Gate, open!"

That was easy enough. The familiar rip appeared, allowing him to slip through, and then closed behind him. He felt instantly freer, but given all the harmony between the two worlds it was hard to find salvation anywhere. 

He heard an unfamiliar sound – a voice, or so it seemed, talking aloud. 

_"Father, what am I going to do now? He's going to leave me alone. Like you did. I don't want to be alone…sure I'll have mother and Rei-chan, but that isn't enough and you know it…father…"_

It was so faint that he doubted that he heard anything at all. It was probably his mind playing tricks on him, he reasoned. Of course it would be that way. He was just too consumed by is own thoughts and not paying attention to the time that his mind was just going off. High above the sky a trail of butterflies flew, giving Ken an uncomfortable chill.

He took to walking under the eaves of the forest. It was mostly quiet, given everyone was asleep at this time. He told Miyako that he had gone to take a walk. He hadn't told her where he was going or how long he would be gone, and at this point, he didn't even care.

He heard a distinct rustling behind him, followed by footsteps that were human sounding. Annoyed by the possibility that it could just be more of Tai and Kari's people, he realized that he rather face whomever it was now than later, though he would prefer to later, he whirled around.

"Who is it?" His voice echoed in the surrounding darkness.

Nothing answered him at first. He turned back around, ready to continue walking.

"Wait." A voice replied, and recognizing the voice this time, Ken turned around with surprise. 

"What are you doing here?"

The man shrugged. "I should ask you the same question."

"Late night walking?"

"Introspective thinking."

Ken nodded. "And this seemed the perfect place, but you weren't sure."

"Right," The man looked down. "I feel like I'm where I should be in my life, but something is missing. And I'm not talking about my dead wife."

"You're not married to Miyako." Ken laughed harshly.

"I thought that you two were enjoying each other?" The man said, surprised. The two of them had begun walking in the darkness. Ken shrugged.

"She's enjoying me, maybe. I haven't been enjoying myself."

"It probably hasn't been easy for you, no matter how easy it looked." The man sighed. "I would say; you should feel happy that you have a wife and many children. Try raising a child on your own, and yet you feel empty. That and my grandfather is ill."

"I had no idea." 

"He's okay with it. Heck, at his age, I'm lucky he's still alive. But it just has me thinking about my father."

Ken laughed harshly again. "At least you knew who your father was."

The man stopped, suddenly understanding. "You mentioned something once, about not really knowing him. Weren't you adopted, like Koushiro?"

"The circumstances were different. I was not a wanted child."

"Do you know anything about your real parents?"

"Actually, I do, and that's what scares me the most." Ken sighed, his eyes flickering over the area, then back into the man's face. "If you want the truth…can I trust you?"

"I'm a lawyer. Technically I'm not supposed to be trustworthy. You make that decision."

Ken laughed with him, this time ringing true. "If you want the truth, I wasn't sure what I was thinking tonight. I don't want to go back home. I can't go back there. I mean, I will, but, for how long…those kids, they aren't a part of me. I don't feel a connection. Miyako put so much of herself into this that there isn't much left of her. She was once such a creative and enterprising woman and she wastes away."

"I've noticed that," The man said thoughtfully. "Such a shame, too…"

Suddenly droplets of water landed on Ken's face, the clear liquid sliding off of his eyelids and trickling down, likewise suddenly more drops came out of nowhere. "What's that?"

"Rain." The man said looking up.

"I guess that means I'll have to go home, then," Ken sighed. "Just when I thought-"

"No it doesn't." The man said, suddenly stopping, and sitting down on the grass. "If you really don't want to go, you don't have to."

Ken smiled. "So you've been here often."

"More than enough. I've tried to be so close to my father. Maybe it will help you keep in touch with yours." The man now stretched himself on the ground, his green eyes blinking and focusing upwards, reminding Ken of how he had been when he was nine years old.

"The more things change, the more they stay the same I guess." Ken smiled, sitting down next to him.

"You mean like you inviting me to Christmas parties?" The younger teased. "We have more in common than we thought. I wish I'd accepted you sooner."

"That was my fault though. But really, how have you been?"

"Awful. My youth doesn't even seem mine anymore." The thirty-five year old remarked.

"I feel that everything I've ever done was a lie." Ken plopped down on the soft damp grass. "How long do you sit here and talk to your father?"

"As long as it takes."

"I think I might join you." Ken said after a moment. 

"Be my guest. Why the sudden interest, though?" His green-eyed companion asked, turning his body so he was on his side.

"I've been meaning to have a conversation with my father." The sky was reflected in Ken's eyes as the rain tampered on and off. "We have a lot more in common than we originally thought we did. I'm actually pretty glad I ran into you."

"Oh?" His companion's green eyes sparkled with interest. "Who is he?"

"Was, Iori, was." Ken took a deep breath, not having even told this to his wife of 17 years. "He was Oikawa Yukio."

The two men's eyes met in the familiar silence.


	2. Generational Patterns

**It All Fell Apart**
    
    _Chapter 2/?_
    
    _Generational Patterns_
    
    : -: -: -: -: -:
    
    _When all the colors fade_
    
    _But this cleansing comes with the rain_

The girl was asleep, her slow rhythmic breathing matched the evenness of the falling rain, and she was able to dream freely. Dream of vast expanses of land covered with darkness. And there was nothing there.

Lightening branched across the sky followed by the unmistakable roar of thunder and then the quick pattering of the rain, as sheets, sliding down the glass windows in a cascade, illuminating the girl's face if only for a moment.

The thunder was almost deafening, forcing her eyelids open to the storm. The morning had wasted away; she was surprised that she had managed to sleep this long.

She focused her eyes on the ceiling, staring upwards at the vastness. Her unusual-colored hair settled around her head, a cloud of distrust. The questions become worse, the answers unattainable. Staring up at the ceiling every night, waiting as the clock ticked impatiently for her to finally close her eyes just when she thought she had discovered herself, her true self, and not this empty shell that she appeared to other people. Maybe she hadn't, and was wrong all along. 

And then she would imagine hearing a voice, something that disturbed her terribly. She could never figure out whom it belonged to, for it would disappear as soon as she would concentrate upon it.

She sat upright in bed, and looked around at the room. The more things changed, the more they stayed the same. At that moment, she just wanted to be out of the room, out of the house, outside, anywhere to escape the feeling of being trapped indoors, something that would put an end to the pointless unanswerable questions and prolonged suffering. 

Turning towards the window her amethyst eyes focused on the storm. The rain seemed comforting, almost. She had to get out of there.

"Ayame," Her mother was outside of the door, knocking on it. "Sleeping in again? Osamu and Kimiko are up already."

She rolled her eyes, sucking in a breath before replying. "Look, I'm going to go out for a walk or something."

"In this weather?"

"Yes, Okaasan," She replied airily. "It helps me think." 

"Do whatever you want, then." There was a sudden harshness to the tone.

The sound of receding footsteps allowed her to exhale in relief. Shaking her head, she turned and spoke softly to the mirror. "When will they realize that all they'll _ever_ achieve is to push me away completely?" _'Though,'_ her mind reasoned. _'That wouldn't be such a bad idea.'_

She knew that she was finally leaving and felt relief as she finished gathering her things, then, thinking better of something, draped her wine-red cloak around her and pulled on her hood with her favorite emblem, a ruby she had found when she was six years old and hadn't gone without since. There it was again, that strange pull to get away. She was fully dressed now, and left the building, not noticing the gaze of her little brother watching, his small-hands pressed to the glass before she disappeared. The storm had ceased for the moment, even though the air was still damp and chill.

Tucking her cold hands into the folds of her cloak and keeping her head slightly bent she walked, splashing slightly in the puddles and not caring. For another moment, she lifted her head and glanced around, hoping that she wouldn't run into anybody. She wanted to be alone.

: -: -: -: -: -:

A gentle patter of rain muffled the sounds of children's laughter as they played tag and pushed each other into puddles. A distant rumble of thunder could occasionally be heard. Even though it wasn't even sunset yet, the sky was dark and getting darker. The house itself was a dull grey, however the warmth and brightness of the children's paintings added to it gave it new life, and the lights were all brightly lit. Miyako hummed slightly to herself as she finished sweeping the floor.

"Another night alone," She mused, in a half-annoyed, half-embittered voice, putting away the broom and then rummaging through the cabinet for some other cleaning substance.

Her perfect house. Her perfect children. It all fit so…poetically. She raising a family of three children, with possibly another on the way…If this kept up she would be no better than her own mother.

"But I don't have a store to run," Miyako shook her head as she inadvertently knocked over the wood-furnishing polish in her frustration. "No, I have to sit here in my perfect little house and raise my children."

She almost missed her own childhood. Growing up with her two sisters and brother, let alone being the youngest, had been miserably dull, and she had often felt shafted, but she thought that she had gotten past that. And even watching her children have fun together, she wondered why she couldn't have had a family like this. A family so perfect that it made any person want to scream. Any normal person, Miyako thought, scathingly. Perhaps because she had the perfect husband and believed that she was far from perfect didn't help. What had made him fall for her anyway? It all seemed so puzzling, as if life went by in a blur…

"Okay, so I'm a perfectionist." Miyako found it easiest to vent when no one else was home. And getting her private time alone became easier as the children got older and busied themselves outside. And she wondered what it would be like, if she were the one running the store and not her sister, or if she had married Shuu Kido instead of her sister marrying him. 

She smirked at this point. Momoe would never have met him if it weren't for her, and although it cost her a friendship with Jun, she was very happy. 

But no. Miyako had not married Shuu. She wasn't even remotely envious of her sister, just thought it highly amusing. Groaning, she looked at the clock. It was getting late. And of course he wasn't home. It almost felt as if he were avoiding her.

"Mom!" She heard one of her children yell out; her son, with his lavender locks, and he came running in, his bright blue raincoat dripping water onto the just-mopped floor. "Mom, Ayame-chan is off walking again and she won't let me follow her."

Miyako slapped her hand to her forehead. "Oy vey." Here it came again, the children being whiny little brats about every little thing concerning one another. She was once that way too.

"Mom, I want Papa. Will he be home today?" Her son continued, looking up at her with sparkling amethyst eyes that made her fall in love with her husband all over again every time that she saw them.

"He won't be home for another couple of hours. But he is definitely coming home today," Miyako gave him a friendly push. "Go back outside, Sam. Unless you want to help me clean, which I doubt. You have another sister, remember? Play with her."

As soon as he had gone, Miyako clenched her hands into fists. "He **better** be home today. I **should** make the little brats clean this place. When I was a child, I did the chores. As an adult, I'm supposed to relax and let the **kids** do the work."

She finished polishing up the furniture, still musing to herself, as talking aloud made her feel comfortable. "This family thing. Maybe it would have been a better idea to play around in college and not set my sight on one guy, but it all worked out for me in the end, didn't it."

She could hear the sounds of the children's laugher behind her as it wafted in, and the creaking of the door. 

She then noticed that her husband's eyes had dark circles under them, his clothes were drenched, and overall he did not look his usual self. 

But what did his usual self-look like anymore? Perhaps it was nothing, he had been at work, something which could prove to be harrowing, and it all would be fine again. She'd tease him with the thought of a candlelit dinner, perhaps go or a nice long soak, and entice him in the bedroom. It always worked.

Of course, there wasn't time anymore for such intricate planning. Dinner would be normal, for the five of them. Or six. Or whatever number it turned into. Her eyes hovered on her husband as he went upstairs, to probably change. He had the expression of a lost man.

It was true, Miyako hadn't seen him for a few days, and had gone through the range of emotions: fear, bitterness, despair, disgust, annoyance, and then, indifference. Did she even care?

Yes. And now she would kill him.

: -: -: -: -: -:

_"What do you mean, that Oikawa was your father?" _Iori's voice echoed in his mind, his green eyes almost haunting him as he walked back home.__

"It was something I had found out some time ago, but never accepted. Something still seems wrong about it.."

He was unfocused. He had spent time with an old companion, and then had gone home again. He didn't know WHY he came home. It wouldn't be running away again. Perhaps it was running for something else. Even as he had seen the expression on Miyako's face when he walked through the door. She was angry, so angry, and maybe she had the right to be.

And he had saw his daughter disappearing into the night. 

Even now, Ken noticed what likeness there was between him and his eldest daughter: detachment. He didn't know her, like he didn't know himself. He had watched her grow, and his other children, but that connection wasn't there.

_I'm incapable;_ he realized, massaging his temples. _Why am I only finding out now?_

Ken sat down, almost uncomfortably on the couch. What he needed was a good long soak to try and figure himself out. Why the seeds of discomfort had been placed in the first place. _'Or is my subconscious trying to tell me something that I don't know?'_ He thought. You never can go so long with an actual peace. That doesn't exist, no matter how long you want to try to prevent a war from erupting. It always happens.

His mother was in a nursing home. After his father's death she fell apart entirely. Ken blamed himself for that, but he couldn't help feeling angered and justified at the time. And now it was a dull lust in his veins. He needed the truth, some sense of peace, to cover the guilt.

And yet, it all felt so wrong..

_"What do you mean, that Oikawa was my father? Have you entirely lost your mind, woman?"_

_That would have explained it perfectly for him. His mother was having a nervous breakdown and all of the hysteria surrounding the death of her husband added to her mental instability._

_"Let me explain, Ken. I've raised you and loved you. You have got to let me explain.." She sighed, her breathing becoming almost ragged. _

_"I'm waiting." He couldn't explain this sudden anger that was surging through his veins. He deserved the truth, though, didn't he? After all that he went through, to find out his life was a lie? It had never felt true, and yet, he was what he always was: an outsider._

_"When you were just a tiny baby.. Well, you arrived, quite out of the blue. My younger sister, Ayame.. she had disappeared, apparently. She had been dead to the family for years."_

_Ken bit his lip. "What does this have to do with anything? You said that Sam was your nephew."_

_"He was." His mother closed her eyes. "From your father-the Ichijouji side. But we knew his parents well, and there was always proof.. of that. You didn't let me explain that you were my nephew as well.." She drew in a deep breath before continuing. "Well, it so happened.. that, well, one day Oikawa just showed up at our house. I remembered him, barely. He worked with my husband-and my sister was good friends with him, when they were younger. She used to like Masaharu Ishida..I never really liked my sister. But that's putting it lightly.." The eyes opened again, the soft brown trying to seek solace in his cold amethyst ones. "She was too different. Quiet. Ambitious. Whenever she did say something to me, it wasn't very nice. Then again, I didn't treat her well enough as it was.."_

_"So you're my.. aunt?" Ken blinked, not even digesting all of the information that she was presenting to him. If he let her keep talking, no likely she would babble on about other trivial things.  First he was consumed with the thought of being a total stranger's product.. and somehow, this thought wasn't too welcoming ether._

_"That's right. Oikawa showed up with the baby one day, told me that it was Ayame's. This I could tell right away. You have her eyes.." She sighed. "So almost immediately I knew, and though he wouldn't tell me, I assumed that he was the father.. I wasn't very nice to him either."_

_"Funny." Ken said, clenching his fists. "You always had that habit of putting on that annoying falsetto nice voice of yours."_

_"I got it from my mother. She was pleased that I turned out like her. Just the way you turned out like Ayame. The SAME way. So cold, smart, ambitious, quiet and negative. I didn't want you to grow up—like that. I didn't know whether to take you at first. My sister was a stranger so I treated you as if you were a stranger's child. That was until I grew to love you, as I did Osamu. As much as I hoped that you two were my real children. I couldn't lose that then."_

_Ken closed his eyes for a moment, determined not to start thinking about his real mother until he found out if there were any truth to his father. "If you lied to me then, how am I supposed to believe you now?"_

_"Ken.. don't make this difficult.."_

_"What did Oikawa say?"_

_His mother turned away from him, sighing. "He said that I had to take you for your own protection."_

_"Protection?"_

_"That's right. I often wondered if I would ever see my sister again, coming here to take you away from me. Or if he would come back, and want you back. Even your father didn't know that truth about him. But he was there, at Osamu's funeral..  But my sister never came, so we raised you. Osamu never knew the truth; if he did, he never let on. He believed that he was our son as much as we need for him to be; just as much as you were his brother that arrived one day, so special."_

_"I can't believe I'm hearing this." Ken said, his tone saturated with incredulity. At this point, he didn't know what to accept as true. The woman before him, this can-do-no-wrong-woman, had just admitted that his entire life had been nothing but a lie. And he thought of them as a family, and how it never seemed to work. Flashes of birthday's gone by quickly dissolved before his eyes as he sought to find something real to hold on to._

_"You asked." His mother replied, sighing deeply. _

_"What about the birth records? They name you and Dad as my.. as my parents." Ken swallowed. That much had been true, he once thought, and it had always said that. Ichijouji Saburu and Ichijouji Akayo. He even looked up Osamu's records after initially finding out, and HIS true parents names were on there._

_"That's because there weren't any birth records for you. Oikawa seemed rather secretive, and thought it imperative that the world thought you were ours. HE said that Ayame went to HIM in order for him to find a place for you. There was urgency in his tone. You were never supposed to find out.."_

After which, she had another fit of hysteria and he was thrown out before he could find out any more, and didn't breach the subject again.

: -: -: -: -: -:

"Ayame! Do the dishes," Miyako screeched as her eldest daughter came lastly into the house, her long indigo-colored hair matted and dripping, her clothes drenched and plastered to her body. There was a likeness so much to her father that Miyako half wanted to strangle the girl. "I thought higher of you. Playing outside in the rain. If you're all sick, don't come crying to me."

"No one was playing anything. It was his own fault, for following me." Was all the girl would reply before she stomped along upstairs into her room. Fuming, Miyako turned around. 

"All right. All right. Ken. Help me here."

Her husband said nothing. His eyes had been on his eldest daughter for the moment she had entered before staring again into nothingness. In fact, Miyako noticed, he had barely said two words to her since returning home. Miyako wanted to ask him more about what he had said earlier, but in between finally letting some of her resentment towards her children bubble to the surface plus separating them from their fights was enough. After all, since she wouldn't be alone in bed tonight, it could wait. "I'll take care of them myself." She scowled. 

Ken Ichijouji watched his wife erupt, not knowing how or wanting to respond. Perhaps it was his fault, for letting his life get like this. Her life. Maybe not tonight, maybe not tomorrow, but soon after he was sure he was well, after he would be able to walk away from this life freely without the pulling chains of guilt. _'Iori was right; I have to talk to that woman who called herself my mother again. I need to know the truth. She was hiding something else; I know it.'_

But why would it be of so much importance to him NOW? Besides developing an identity. That's what Iori had said: You've lost your identity and right now, you've just decided that you wanted one. No one said you had to like the answers.

Probably why he became a lawyer. Always dealing with questions. Perhaps it wasn't too late to go elsewhere for the answers.

His six-year-old son, with the hair so much like his mother's, and the face so like his own, was watching him as he rose from the couch and went upstairs. Ken didn't realize that he was being followed until he reached his room and turned and saw the boy.

"Otousan," He whimpered, "Why haven't you been here?"

"I'm sorry, Osamu, but I'm just not in the mood right now."

"You're going to go away again, aren't you? I want to go with you. I want to be like you."

Ken sighed at this, remembering how he was at that age. "No, Osamu, you don't want to be like me."

"But Otousan…Mama just complains because we are useless children. We need you. I need you."

"You'll just have to understand that your mother is under a lot of stress." Ken said after a moment, regretting that he hadn't spent enough time with his children. _It's just like my so-called parents all over again. I can't be like them. I swore I wouldn't be._

"Why, Otousan? Why doesn't she love us?"

Ken recoiled. _'It's me who doesn't love you.'_ "Of course she loves you. She's just…not used to this. She came from a big family and didn't expect to have one of her own. She wanted to be free to have her own life, her own career, and I just wanted a family. We haven't been able to give to one another what we need." He didn't know why he was explaining this to a six-year-old boy. There was no way the boy could possibly understand.

"We can be a family. Just us…" The child sniffed, and allowed his father to take him into his arms. "She doesn't need us, Otousan…she doesn't **want** us."

"She does, Osamu. She does." But by these last words he wondered whom he was trying more to convince, his son or himself.

Miyako was listening outside the door, but she did not go in. Instead, she looked from her bedroom door to the closed one that her two daughters shared, and shaking her head went downstairs and grabbed her jacket from the closet and stormed out into the rain.

Her eldest daughter watched her from the window as she left the house, her violet eyes forming small slits as she slowly turned away.

"You'll never understand, Mother.."

**To Be Continued? **

Who knows why my muse suddenly picked this up..?


End file.
